


Ke Itumelela Go Goitsi

by FrancesBroderiko



Series: Human Holiday - Playtoy Syndrome [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Adoption, Africa, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming of Age, Family Issues, Fatherhood, Friendship, Gen, Love and Loss, Madness, Original Male Character - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Pet Ownership - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9227567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrancesBroderiko/pseuds/FrancesBroderiko
Summary: Leorio found himself in trouble all his life. Dangerous things that he somehow miraculously survived. And later on, when he finally seemed to be getting his life back in track - rescuing a sick child from an abusive cult family, on his way to higher education - an old friend comes back into his life. A reunion, a small town in Botswana, Africa. Leorio would take the two kids, Gon and Killua. See how far they'd come since the dark pits that he and Ezekiel Azikiwe shared when they were kids.Until the troubles follows him out.Danger takes form in a red-eyed monster, stalking the savannah grasses. No-one had seen him prior to Gon. Gon, who disappeared for nights on end. And suddenly, everything began falling apart.~Gon is a boy who is looking for his father, and instead, finds a strange new friend.Killua is a boy who is constantly torn between choices, and more constantly without a choice at all due to an unsteady court claim, an insane family, and a disease that he knew forever to be called, 'madness.'Leorio only wants to make things right.The re-write of Human Holiday!





	1. In Africa

** Chapter One **

* * *

 

** I feel like it has been so long overdue that I got the re-write up. I've been trying to get school (and my grades) into something I was comfortable with until I could focus on this series, which is why there may be an expected hiatus this coming spring, with graduation in the near future, and college after that. However, I feel like the new and improved "Human Holiday" is up for another long run, and hopefully a better one!  **

** By the way, there is a description, not too detailed, implying human trafficking early on. Very heavily implying (kids are sick and starving as well as other people are, implied death of maybe dozens of kidnapped people all stuffed into a cell, and later on, a child's description of homelessness before rescue).  **

* * *

 

**He** had gotten permission from the social worker about a week in advance. He told the kids about three days in advance. He told himself a few hours in advance. And he still didn’t feel close to being prepared.

Sitting on the foot of his bed was a heavily-packed suitcase; sitting on his mind and in his chest was an unnecessary fear that caused him to forget to feed the cat that morning. She yowled at his feet, rubbing her lithe body up and around his ankles and demanding his attention. 

Leorio sighed deeply to himself, complying as he bent down to pick up his pet. She purred, settling herself in his arms as he gently stroked her back. He stared, not at her, but past her, his mind too deep in thought to do much more than mindless petting.

Isn’t this just what he told him not to do?

_“…so don’t you suffocate yourself with your worrying, alright? There’s no reason why they should deny you a trip once in a while, we all needs a break sometimes! I still can’t wait to see those two little scamps of yours!”_ There was a little smily-face emoticon at the end of the message, but Leorio didn’t smile back to it when he tried, re-reading the message as he balanced his cat on his hip.

The open suitcase looked menacing, with it’s yawning mouth and neatly folded shirts.

He could just keep going to class. Send Zeke a picture or two, they could video chat.

If only.

If only he didn’t have the obligation to see him; it was kind of a given to see one of the most influential people in his life after finding out that he _hadn’t_ died in an underground arena unknown to the world.

When the gathered the courage to look, to this day, he still hadn’t seen any open records of… _him_ , and his…kennel. 

Except for Ezekiel, the beacon of hope when there was no trace of it, and perhaps the only living record that Hell had a place under the watch of a man whom they both knew only as “Tony.”

He was still stupefied by the fact that they managed to find one another again at all. He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but would be ready to plainly call it a miracle, because there was no other way to explain it. He knew that he couldn’t.

Out of the hundreds of men and woman and children cramped in those tiny cells bordered with iron bars and thick concrete, damp with perspiration and other human fluids, he and Ezekiel were witnesses, victims of years of being surrounded by disease and infestation, starvation - and all ending either in death or being sold to a new cage, wherever those places might be. 

Leorio himself didn’t stick around enough to know what lay beyond one of the prisoner’s purchase. There was an open patch in the wire gate outside where the rust had eaten away at it, and it left him with several long, white scars, thin as the wire that made them, going down his back.

From what he heard in their brief e-mail reuniting, Zeke didn’t escape in the same way he did.

Zeke knew what it was like, beyond the money that exchanged between hands.

Soon after Leorio left, the child who’s name was _Ekua_ was sold to a new home in Botswana, Africa - he was lucky enough for a friend of his family’s to take out a loan to buy him from the traffic.

This was where Ezekiel got his new name - “Ekua" died in Tony’s prison, still a child. Ezekiel Azikiwe, however, worked in a wildlife resort tending to sick giraffes, his “parents” alongside him to pay off the loan.

Ezekiel said he changed his name because he felt he had no memories of Ekua, pulling himself away from the mind of the prisoner boy and inserting himself into a new persona, unmarred by the pain and suffering of the past. 

Although he couldn’t imagine himself as another person, Leorio didn’t challenge this, feeling it no place for him to talk. Everyone had their own coping mechanisms, and there was not a damn person on this earth that can tell them what they can or can’t do, so long as it helps and doesn’t hurt. 

Currently, he himself was attending a medical school in Akron, close by the apartment he lived in, and was training to become a doctor.

Leorio Paladiknight was thirty-four years old, having gone places he never began to imagine in the corners of Paladiknight’s family ranch, farm and brewery; of the orchards and vineyards, the long and sprawling valleys of his California childhood before Tony had stolen him. From there, it was picking the worms and beetles from his rice and potatoes. 

When he escaped, he had drifted from town to town, and although each place had it’s own beauty in the light, the shadows had their own horror that mattered much more than anything the light could offer. Half-melted people maybe more artificial than an actual machine. Slumped and thin, covered in poorly sewn tarps and rags, scrounging like raccoons. 

Those were _humans._

Like he’d never even left Tony’s prison. 

He had finally stumbled his way out of the city, having been found just once and taken to a hospital, only to be met with people who weren’t any more human than the hungry robots that he’d seen lazing in alleyways. And by the doctor’s words, he wasn’t much better off.

Scared, he left before they could even ask his name.

He would have died in a creek had he not been found by a small family who’d taken him in, and he lived with them for the rest of his childhood. 

Things were different, now. He found himself grateful more than he wasn’t, and apologetic at those times he wasn’t happy that he was even alive. If he wasn’t bound to be that people who saved him, the man in the white coat, he would have simply lent his body to become one of those machines himself. 

It didn’t take more than overnight to go from everything to nothing. 

Sometimes, he needed reminding of this. He knew that, even when he found himself beginning to fade out.

But all the same - here he was, on his way to getting a degree, and the next thing that he knew for sure was that he had been granted permission to use his two-weeks vacation time, which was why he had purchased plane tickets and would be seeing Ezekiel again in another couple of days.

And he would be taking the kids with him.

Both of which were not his, but very close to being - and God, was he _close_!

He had been practically grasping at straws for nearly two years for one thing only, and that was the liberation of a twelve-year-old boy, one of the two that he found himself taking in under his own roof. Only recently did he manage to gain leverage in the case, with help of course, and he wasn’t about to throw in the towel yet.

Even if it still looked hopeless, it was when Hell froze over and melted back again would he ever give up his fight.

It was perhaps his own experience with being kept in a cage - literally or figuratively - that drove him to involve himself deeper in things that had no open arms for a poorly reconstructed man like him. Falling apart at the seams as it was and by some touch of God standing on his own two feet.

But he had a life, so did that boy, and he was going to make something of it whether they liked it or not.

The boy was a tall tale on his own, coming from a deeply religious family, so much so that they had, generations ago, managed to secure a considerably large chunk of property the size of a mountain and surrounding valleys in order to live apart from the rest of the country and away from the handle of the law - which was just as fine for them, as the family was made up of doctors, priests, farmers, and predominantly - assassins.

Just last year, an event known to it’s participants only as the “White Horse Trial,” had become common talk both in and outside of the walls surrounding the Zoldyck property. 

It was just treated as a fly on the shoulder, the demeanor of the offending party had said, all until Leorio managed to flip the odds in a shocking turn of events, in one move seizing partial legal guardianship over the boy, giving the child basic legal rights as a citizen, medical and schooling being first on the long list. 

The middlemen and prosecutors, Madeline and Mali, said that it wasn’t much in the grand scale of things, but it was enough to get by, and that they were working on furthering the trial as the days passed.

To Leorio, this was a victory of epic proportions, and now that the outcome was tipping in his favor, he felt brave enough to buy the child a ticket as well and bring him along on the trip to Africa. Give him a bit of time away from the courthouse and all it’s stresses.

It had dawned on him, around the time that he’d told Ezekiel about his having two children, that he’d never really thought of what life would be like once they’d won the trial. All corners of his mind had been occupied on the battle, he hadn’t put thought to what aftermath would be like. 

Maybe visiting Uncle Ezekiel would help with that. 

“Leorio!” Came a shout from the other room, and he looked over his shoulder, pulled from his mind. It didn’t sound urgent, so he wasn’t very concerned. However, he knew that there was no way on earth that he was going to be able to ignore it. Kids were persistent.

“What is it?” He shouted back, and Brenda, the cat, hurried to jump down from his arms and onto the bed. She didn’t seem to appreciate the noise, and glared after him as he left the room.

“Gon?”

“How do I do this?”

Leorio walked down the short hallway and into the living room. Their apartment had two floors, one of the few that did. They themselves were on the third floor of the building, and their “upstairs” the fourth. The downstairs had a living room coming in straight off from the front door, to the immediate right a small kitchen, and in the back of that was a walk-in closet that served as a dining room due to the perfectly-placed window that lit the place in mornings.

The hallway straight off from the front door led to a bathroom, Leorio’s room, and a closet, while the upstairs had the kids’ rooms and a second bathroom.

Currently, Gon was in the living room, sitting on his knees before the low-leveled coffee table. He had a paper out in front of him, one hand guiding a pencil over the surface, and the other dangling at his side. “Leorio? Can you help me with this? You’re smart.” He said, and although Leorio didn’t mind the compliment, he didn’t go to sit down.

“Stop being a wiseass. You know you don’t have to do your homework this week. Go get your packing done.” He went to the kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee, all the while keeping an ear out for the sound of the pencil dropping to the table and the paper being pushed back away. He could easily glance up and see the smile spread goofily across Gon’s face, and it was enough to make him smile a bit as well. It shouldn't have been that amusing, but…

“Aw. If you say so.” Gon said, poorly feigning disappointment, before getting up and running back up the stairs.

For the past week, he had been bugged about school for one half of the time, and what “Uncle Ezekiel” was like the other half.

When about their uncle, Leorio only answered in half-truths, because the ‘responsible adult’ part of him said that children weren’t ready for such stories, and even the benign things can turn bad in the span of a second. He would feel himself a monster if he breathed a word even related to Tony to a pair of young, impressionable children, so he said that questions can be saved for when they get there, so they can ask Ezekiel himself.

That was, if they would get through the flight without much complication.

Leorio had two children, both of which weren’t his, but were damn close.

Gon wasn’t the one that he was fighting for.

Gon was a vagabond boy in the middle of hunting for his father. Leorio had met him after the both of them had failed the destructive and deadly Hunter Exam, making it out with their lives and a parent and child in the both of them respectively.

The other child was a different story.

Killua was reclusive, and kept to himself.

He wasn’t very vocal when not with Gon alone, and Leorio didn’t blame him, although he would have liked to hear from his could-be son more often.

Killua was cocky and confidant, and had the personality of any other twelve-year-old boy that lived out there, when he was feeling relaxed enough to allow it to show. The only difference, and it was a big one, was that he still had a few ‘problems’ that Leorio was still working on.

These problems went beyond the simple ‘my kid is not doing his homework.’

Instead, try - ‘my kid is sick with what _should_ be a deadly disease to normal people who were not human monsters, and despite not showing any symptoms he is a walking bioweapon.’

Leorio didn’t regret talking down Madeline and Mali in order to at least have a chance at taking the child from his old home, the one that could and had used him for their own devices, and was still trying to. He had periodically received neat letters written in heavy ink persuading him to relinquish his position in the Trial and give them the child back. That it would be in both his and the child’s best interests, that if he really wanted to help the boy, _blahblahblah._

For people who had housed sick children and made no move to cure, or at least treat them, there wasn’t a snowballs’ chance in Hell that Leorio was going to do any such thing.

Hydrophobia was no joke, he knew that from the start, and lived with it as his housemate every day.

But he would much rather put up with the pitfalls than live knowing that the child was going unmedicated with a blood-borne virus that literally made you choke on your own saliva, cough up bits of lung and strangle every muscle in the body. Damage to the nervous system was prominent, but it also attacked the brain stem and the spinal cord. Some episodes had demonstrated not only the common symptoms of Hydrophobia - heavy salivating, muscle spasms, inability to eat or drink, and loss of the ability to think clearly, but if emergency treatment wasn’t given right away, paralysis would begin effect. 

If the boy weren’t born into the Zoldyck family, he would have been long since dead.

There was a specialist in Milwaukee, but they couldn’t afford the move, nor the emergency treatment that wasn’t granted by Madeline and Mali out of pity. “There’s no sense fighting that hard for no reason.” Mali had said, first handing him a briefcase that would see often, taking it around with him wherever he went. Inside were dozens of syringes loaded full with a fast-acting antibiotics. They each auto-injected the mixture, the time it took to load one of them and tap the air out of it being far too long for someone who was quickly losing the strength to live.

Now, he was sure that not only did he have the right tools for helping him out of an episode, but everything else for emergencies right down to brain failure.

So it shouldn’t be that much of hassle getting him to Botswana, should it?

He didn’t want to leave him home alone, and even if Hydrophobia wasn’t a looming reaper over their lives, Leorio never once considered leaving Killua to someone else.

That, and he didn’t trust Menchi with minors.

His adopted sister, although a culinary genius and a professional badass, was a drunk by heart and by soul, and that kept him from even allowing her to babysit when she offered.

Besides, ‘Uncle Ezekiel’ had been spoiling them beyond what Leorio was pleased with, and they hadn’t even come into contact yet - he hadn’t known that it would be a mistake sending Ezekiel a letter that mentioned he was caring for one boy and fighting for the custody of another.

Immediately, he was bombarded with questions about hair and eye color, personality, which school they went to, what their grades were, and whether or not they were into sports or theatre or something else.

One child - Gon - went to public school while the other - Killua - was taught at home. Leorio applied for and received a permit to do this as soon as Madeline and Mali granted him the right, and was now supplied with a bare minimum to teach with.

He would have never described himself as a teacher, and asked for Killua not to call him one (not that there was much persuasion needed), he was just a possibly-parent who didn’t like not being there in case anything happened, and he knew damn well that the school nurse wasn’t trained to counter the effects of what could only be described as a seizure that could kill him. And the people who he came in contact with.

_Blood and fluid_ contact - he had to explain this time and time again, and it was like the words came automatic sometimes - “yes, the warning paper says is viral, but _only with blood and fluid you aren’t going to tongue kiss him are you?!”_

Since he was given the rights given to take the boy to the hospital, Killua had been given a paper mandatory for those going in public spaces with a disease of the body or the mind - color coded, and marked to be avoided. This was pinned to chest of his shirt on the top and bottom of the paper, where those who passed by could see it easily.

Killua never rested in proving how much he hated the paper’s existence, and quickly came to hate going out in public. It was no secret that he didn’t like Leorio much, either, for taking him to get the paper in the first place. Nonetheless, Leorio tried his best to get him to go on shopping trips or to the gas station, bribing him with candy and the promise that no-one will stare if he didn’t stare at them.

Ezekiel was the only reassurance that Leorio himself got to have, and he promised solemnly to the boy that Madeline and Mali were finally going to take that one last step, take him from the hands of the isolated Zoldyck community, and Leorio would legally adopt him.

This plan had been on the table for a year.

To say that he needed a break was an understatement.

Arriving in Gaborone, Botswana, had been driven the nail into the coffin, and for a while, he felt something that could only be described as an out-of-body experience. That, or momentary brain death.

* * *

 Ezekiel had just about squeezed the life out of him as soon as he got off the airport terminal. And being a tall and burly man, this wouldn’t have been too difficult had Leorio not struggled enough. But before this could happen, he was dropping heavily back onto the tile floor without any warning whatsoever.

“Christ, you know how long it’s been since I seen you?! Ages! God almighty, I never would’ve thought i’d see that face again!” Ezekiel grinned from ear to ear, his brown eyes glistening brightly.

It really did make him happy, seeing it. The last time that he’d seen Ezekiel, he was a thin, scrawny little thing, skin and bones and sicker than a dog. They huddled together and shared their cache of food, covering one another’s mouths as they slept to avoid contracting disease, and helping pick out clean water to avoid the typhoid. But through all the while, young Ekua stayed optimistic, his dark eyes dull but alive, and that was probably the very thing that kept him that way.

Leorio was told before that his eyes were black.

He thanked them. Because it was polite. He didn’t eat an entire tub of ice cream, and he _didn’t_ allow the kids to stay up with him and watch the entire _Pepper Pig_ series back-to-back. And he didn’t cry when Pepper lost her doll, or when there was a character named Leo who didn’t know how to play with the older kids.  

And his eyes were  **_cobalt_** **_blue,_** thank you sir.

As soon as Zeke laid eyes on the kids, he proceeded to crouch to their height, wrap them in a hug, and make an almost inhuman noise of what could have been called joy but Leorio was sure there was no word for it. “ _Aww my God_ , who are _these_ little guys? They’re so cute and _tiny_ it’s adorable! Bringing these sweet little nuggets out to see their Uncle Ezekiel!”

Leorio could only laugh, and harder when the kids looked up to him for help. It could have been his genuine amusement, it could have been his genuine fatigue. It could have been some underlying mental illness. He would be fine with that, what’s one more thing to add to the list?

The eighth season of _Pepper Pig_. That’s what.

When the circus finally packed up and hit the road, Gon was permitted to sit in the front seat of the car, Killua in the back with Leorio. 

Killua was always distant, and Leorio didn’t blame him, but every time he thought about it, which was often, he wrung his nerves out wondering how he could get to be more of a father to his boy.  

“I’m sure you kids’ll have a great time here, absolutely wonderful. And you have no idea how excited I am to get to show you all around - I mean, my nephews right in front of me! I couldn’t have asked for anything better! _And just wait until Mom sees them she’ll do a flip!_ ”

Gon turned his body to look into the back seat, and Leorio shrugged helplessly, unable to offer any explanation, and despite it being a situation where it wasn’t warranted, Leorio felt a little inadequate all the same.

When the car stopped in front of a modest bungalow, the kids jumped out and went to doing their own thing. Leorio was told to leave his things in the car, they could get them later.

Zeke smiled to him, walking over to the house as Leorio followed. From there, they found themselves just leaning back against the side of the wall, standing under an awning. Ezekiel once stood to show the kids the way around the other side of the house, Leorio reminding them not to go too far, they only just got there and they were guests, but this was disregarded as soon as Ezekiel said so. “Come on, Leo. Boys will be boys, and they’re going to be dead tired come sundown, which leaves us more time to catch up with adult things.”

Leorio shrugged lightly. “I dunno, i’m just about dead already, dealing with lost children is the least I need to worry about. I would ask if you had beer in your fridge if I drank. But you know what comes with the process of adoption.” He yawned, stretching his arms up over his head, and Ezekiel gave him a lopsided grin.

“I’m sure they won’t know.”

“Can’t chance it.”

Knowing that arguing was a losing battle, Ezekiel left it alone, knowing two things for sure - if it meant that the odds of Leorio winning the case were higher, he would probably eat only eggs and potatoes for the next two years. Still yet, he would probably quit food altogether if it meant that kid’s happiness, even if abandoning alcohol was more likely.

Even if he didn’t think it would make a spot of difference, Ezekiel led his old friend and partner inside to show him where they kept the milk.

“Who would’ve thought that we’d get from _him_ , to here. I mean, the odds of it, really. Just one day, the both of us was sure we were born to rot and our corpses be trampled like the rug, but here we are - you, you want to be a doctor, right? And kids - Christ, never pictured i’d see the day i’d meet any nephew of mine, let alone two of ‘em.” And Zeke smiled, even if they were only going to be there for a little while. “Do you like coffee at least?”

Before the day was done, they wandered a market nearby the house to pick up dinner. The kids acquired things that Leorio wasn’t quite sure his budget would fit, showing them up to him and smiling at their find. However, it seemed that to their luck, Ezekiel had a pocket that lasted damn near forever.

“It comes with the territory. The looks on their faces is more than worth it.” He said, and Leorio wondered when he would even begin to feel that. He didn’t want to call himself stingy, but as long as he’d known he was a penny-pincher.

Even if he felt bad for not being able to give them what they wanted.

Especially since he was assigned, by law no less, to be the “parent” of one of them. It was just his own skewed morals that made him worry as much over the other child.

“Just you cheer up, Leo. It’s not the end of the world they get some firecrackers in their hands. You look like your dog just died.”

Well, the sadness was gone.

_“Firecrackers?!”_

* * *

 The crackers were gone, and put well far away from where the kids could reach them.

Not that they would have done much; at about eight-o’-clock, Leorio was sat at the foot of the Azikiwe’s guest bed, holding a bottle of shampoo in his hand and silently observing the two children, both covered with a patterned blanket and sleeping like stones.

It wasn’t that dark out, the surrounding grasslands lit by an ethereal bluish glow. They were playing around in the yard before they had come in to join the rest of the family, answering questions by Ezekiel and his parents with polite smiles and remembering their manners, something that Leorio couldn't help but be proud of.

He had seen them practically falling asleep into their hands only a couple hours later, and helped them into bed. They were sluggish before, but he could have sworn they fell asleep as soon as they were laying down.

Just watching, he felt a little tired himself. The silence of the African rural town compared to the energy that the city radiated every moment, waking or sleeping; it was so quiet and peaceful it scared him a bit. 

Leorio got up from the bed, holding the bottle of soap. He was going to take a shower before bed, himself placed in another guest room that was originally an entertainment center. He was going to be on a pull-out bed. He didn’t complain, though. 

Mr. and the second Mrs. Azikiwe were happy to have them, and smiled when he told them and Zeke of the children in the other room. 

“I wouldn’t doubt it, it’s been a long day.” The Missus had said, before heading into the kitchen. “Let me get something for you to eat, it’s getting on to the Night Show, and we always have snacks for the Night Show.”

The pie was good. Pudding. Whipped cream. He got a face-full of it, having held the plate in one hand, and was about to rest his cheek in the other when he realized too late it was the wrong hand.

It didn’t take long for him to clean his hair and slip away to bed, the family bidding him good-night.

He wondered briefly, walking past the room the kids were sleeping in.

If he were really their father, would his kids ever be happy with just him. 

Maybe it was just his being tired, or maybe they should have found a mother instead of him. Someone who was actually good at the whole kids thing.

Gon had his aunt Mito, and she did just fine. He could be living with her instead of following behind him and his troubles.

He wasn’t a woman.

He couldn’t play mom.

Let alone dad.

But he’d try.

For them.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meta - Annie *A type of drug that would bring about dizziness and drowsiness, however simultaneously would make a person restless and unable to sleep, trapping them in a state of being tired but unable to fall asleep, thus lowering the inhibitions. “Annie” was the prototype name for an over-the-counter before it was discontinued due to the bad side effects. It can still be bought (Gon was proof) to be used as a light drug for sport and fun. Death by “Annie” is unlikely.
> 
> Also the pictures finally working has really made my day.


	2. Child of the Passive Conquerer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The revised second chapter!

**Chapter Two**

 

* * *

 **Gon** woke up earlier than Killua. He wasn’t normally a light sleeper, but last he knew, the sun was still up when he’d gone to bed, and that was enough for his excuse to rise with the sun the very next day.

He was a polite boy, so he liked to think, so he carefully slipped from between the bedsheets, pulled on a pair of socks, and padded to the door as quietly as he could make himself.

The room was cool, a light breeze from the open window brushing against his exposed arms and legs, and he glanced around to look at the shelves loaded with figurines and knick-knacks. There was a woven carpet hung on the wall, and a portable radio that rested on the shelf by the bed. Below his feet was another carpet, but the brilliant colors were dulled somewhat from the wear.

The door didn’t squeak when he opened it, and he was thankful for that as he closed it again and made his way down the hall and into the sitting area.

Someone left something white on the chair. He didn’t touch it, because Killua told him not to do that. “If it’s white in color, leave it alone. If it’s any other color, you can pick it up and eat it, sure.”

There was a half-empty bowl of cheese-doodles on the counter, which he ate for breakfast, and afterward slipped on his shoes to go outside.

Leorio was manic about them not leaving the house before he was awake, but he knew that Uncle Ezekiel wouldn’t mind and Uncle Ezekiel was chill so it was okay.

Besides, he had something he wanted to try. No-one was awake yet, and he wasn’t going to face the wrath of an early-risen Killua, so he took the packet of Annie and slipped away into the grass.

He was told after school, just that last week, that [ **A** n **N** i **E** ] was the most common thing you were going to find, and that the effects were like spinning around and getting dizzy. “My big brother did Annie once. He said it was boring, but when I did it, I saw ducks. Green ones. And they didn’t just fly, they floated, up into heaven. It was actually pretty sad.”

Probably Mallards, Gon thought, but he thought of the boy when he saw a dirty green packet in the market. He took it, paying with the money that Uncle Ezekiel had sent him in the mail. Even after having it in his possession for a while; playing with it before bed and bringing it to school to show, African money looked so weird compared to American, and he had feeling that he might have overpaid.

‘Well.’ He thought, going outside with a cup of yoghurt. They were little pills, and last time that he took a pill dry it tasted awful. ‘I’ll just have to see if it’s worth it or not.

He pulled off the lid to the yoghurt and took a slug of it, popping two of the little blue pills into his mouth. They tasted strong even with the yoghurt, but after feeling nothing and cursing his classmates, he decided to take a walk. There was a colorful bird in the brush, and he wondered what Killua would think if it if he brought it back.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t there when Killua woke up, and he still wasn’t there when the boy went to wake up Leorio. Then Uncle Ezekiel, then Mr. and Mrs. Azikiwe. When nightfall came, it was then the police, and when a couple days passed, an entire Search & Rescue team.

He was found exactly one week later, emaciated and uneasy on his feet. He stumbled out of a thick grove of wild South African plains. Coincidentally, this was on a part of the game reserve that Ezekiel Azikiwe worked on - the man had spotted the boy just as nightfall crept over, and he called the police in an instant, wrapping the boy up in an emergency blanket and rushing him to the hospital.

Leorio had three heart attacks, two at the scene where Gon was picked up, and another back at the house waiting to be cleared for visitation.

Troops would say that it was a success that they recovered the child alive, but they also mentioned something else being with him. Something that ran back into the grass, and something that evaded detection from there on out.

* * *

 

It was remarkable but unsurprising when Gon was woken up by Killua, who had his middle leant over Gon’s chest and expressive grey eyes staring him straight between his own. He was just so close, in fact, that the frown on his face was clear, even through the haze that contaminated the rest of Gon’s new environment. It took several minutes for the rest of his senses to come back, but Killua wasn’t patient and several times roughly slapped a hand to the side of his face.

It didn’t hurt, really.

What _did_ hurt was his eyes. The water in them stung and caused him to squint, and maybe even made the blurriness worse. He brought a hand up to press it against his eyelids just as Killua began to speak, his voice as clear as his anger, which was often made very clear indeed.

Anger and worry were synonymous for the Zoldyck child, this probably due to their family motto being, “fear is death, and death for _a_ Zoldyck is death for _the_ Zoldyck,” and during their days of play and peril, he discovered that if Killua were cross with him, it was either a bumptious friendliness at best or trying to hide that he was scared. It went without doubt that he did have a wavering edge to his voice, which truly showed just how scared he was, making Gon feel all the worse.

“I should have known. I should have _known_ that we shouldn’t have left you alone, not for one Goddam minute.”

Gon couldn’t make out half of it, but judging by the force of his voice and the tone, he knew he was in trouble. It didn’t take a genius, really - and Killua was right, whatever he was saying.

He was always very weak when it came to these things. Rich and thick foods made his stomach turn, but somehow, he ran back into the dangerous like a moth to the light. For this, he knew that he was in unspeakable trouble, and listened as best he could while Killua voiced his fury, words gradually coming clearer as Gon’s hearing returned to him.

“Do you have any clue of how scared we were? Do you have even _close_ to any idea what it was like in that house while you were gone? How much it felt like a trap?”

He spat, that time, and Gon reached up a hand to wipe his cheek. 

“Half the time we didn’t _sleep_ because you’d be probably half-starved and chasing the wild animals! And guess what? With you sitting in that bed and looking like a corpse, I wouldn’t doubt if Leorio’s gonna kill you on the spot!”  

It was in that instant when reality picked up her whip, much like the big, horrible mistress she was - the blur left his eyes, the dizziness from his head, and he pushed Killua off of him to sit up.

“a’s right…” He murmured, his words slurring due to the medication. “‘ow long hazzit been…?

A stupid question, one that Killua didn’t think deserved an answer, apparently.

Instead, he reached over and slapped him again, this time so that it produced a sound similar to the snap of leather in the air.

Again, it didn’t hurt. But there was a mark there, Gon was sure.

There had been numerous times that Leorio brough one of his therapist friends to talk about Killua’s use of violence in otherwise nonviolent situations. He was just starting to get the hang of it, but it seemed that old habits die hard. Gon never said anything when he did forget to count to ten, as he was the only person in the world, possibly, that could tolerate his roughhousing.

“‘ank you ‘llua.” Gon said through another, this time loving, cuff to the cheek, unable to stop his smile when Killua finally laid back onto the bed. He shifted to get himself comfortable, one leg on either side of Gon as if it were his cot and Gon were the uninvited guest. “‘espite how far I run, ‘n how many times I get m’self inta trouble, yer ‘lways there t’ drag me back home, y’ know that?" 

Killua smiled, his fingers curling into the blankets as he stretched a little. “Yeah, you’re lucky to have me, and you better keep that in mind. Though I don’t know why myself.” He laid his head back, looking up at the clock in the hospital room, which was backwards due to his up-side-down position. “And it’s been a week. How in God’s name did you live out there for a week?”

Gon sat back into the pillow he had propped up for himself.

That was one thing…what had he done…?

It _was_ coming together, although slowly, and he tried to remember as best he could…

 

“Jamba!”

 

Killua started as Gon shouted. He sat up in excitement, the pillow falling back behind the bed.

For the life of him, Killua could not understand. Maybe he was hearing him wrong, and maybe Gon was just a little bit more delirious than he first thought. Maybe a wild ox kicked him in the head.

He was just about to ask when a nurse came into the room, took their attentions for just one second, before she rushed back out.

Gon stared after her. “Wha’ wassat about? She look worried.” Through the breathy, tired voice he had, raspy from a sore throat, he still sounded concerned.

“She’s been told to tell Leorio when you wake up. You can’t even imagine how paranoid he’s been while you were gone. The only thing I can say to you is this - you’re boned. Badly.”

Gon knew this. He _was_ boned. And worse than badly - the moment that Leorio came through the door, Gon felt as though there was a metal rod, maybe twenty feet long, impaling his heart and leaving it crumpled on the wall where it was pushed out the back of him.

Leorio had seen better days.

Actually, that didn’t even describe the half of it.

His eyes were shot red and lined by dark bruising, his eyelids heavy. The rest of his face was pale, his hair was mussed and greasy, uncombed so that the sides flopped down. Normally, he took the care to gently gel it and run a comb through, but now it looked like the black cat had a hairball.

Maybe he wore those clothes to bed for the past week - the white shirt had a coffee stain on the front, and hung loosely, as did the baggy grey sweatpants, on leg with a hole in them.

He smelled bad, like he hadn’t taken a shower in a week.

This was probably true, Gon thought, as Leorio threw himself around him, having sprinted across the room and practically leapt up onto the bed, immediately going to squeeze the breath out of Gon’s lungs. He mumbled things that Gon couldn’t understand at first, and when he pulled away after what felt like ages, Leorio looked like he’d died and come back. His eyes were brimming with water, and his cheeks were redder than tomatoes.  

He mouthed things that Gon couldn’t understand with lips painted with saliva, and finally hugged him again, taking that moment to pull himself together. His back shuddered as he controlled his breathing, and when he could talk - a considerable moment later - Gon regretted living.

Leorio heaved a breath, saying his Hail Mary’s maybe, before he addressed Gon.

“You’re alive…” He said, barely.

“…Yeah. That’s me.” Gon said, and wondered if he should have.

There was a moment, cold and choking.

“You…” Leorio started, taking Gon’s shoulders and gripping them tightly. “What am I going to do with you?” He said, and shook him. “Listen to me!” He snapped, and Gon listened. “Do you know…do you _even know_ …how _scared_ I was?”

His voice reminded Gon of a tomato stalk. On that had been dried out from the sun, and then overwatered.

“How scared we all were, you much trouble you’re in…I…” He stopped short, and Gon used that moment to try and do something. Something that would end the kind of limbo that he’d found himself squeezed in the middle of.

“Leorio, I-”

“ _I thought you were dead!_ You could have _died_ out there, you could have gotten _killed,_ do you even know how _scared_ I was?! Scared that you could have been kidnapped, _do you have any idea_ what kind of things _happen_ to kids on their own?!”

The nurse had come back in. She tried to walk up to him, and when he saw her, he ran his sleeve over his face. “’m fine.” He said in a voice that shuddered, and the nurse bowed her head to him in a polite nod.

“That’s good. I’m just coming in to check his vitals. Please get up, just for a second. You can still be with your son.”

Leorio tried to get Killua to sit with him, but Killua didn’t allow it.

He didn’t like Leorio that much.

He mentioned in the past that Leorio was trying to steal him from his family, and that while he didn’t mind him as a friend, he wasn’t going to be his father. “I’m a Zoldyck.” Killua said. “I can handle things - I don’t need him to fight my battles for me.”

Gon didn’t agree one way or another, if only just to keep a fight from happening.

When the nurse was done, Leorio had composed himself enough to talk mostly normally, and did just that. “How…” Leorio began, and Gon knew what he was going to say before he finished it. “How…did you do this? How did this happen?”

Gon wasn’t sure how to answer him. “I…I don’t know, I just…got lost.” He said, and Leorio was reaching a hand out, slipping it behind Gon’s back and pulling him close when Killua began to talk.

“He got blown off his feet by a dose of Annie that obviously he can’t handle, and ended up on the game reserve, stoned more than the Mirny Mine.” Once he’d spoken his dues, Killua had gone back to lacking in any further contribution, basking in the troubling air that he stirred by his bad words.

Gon glared at him as he pressed his head into Leorio’s chest from where he’d been hugging him. Maybe, if he couldn’t see him, they could forget about it.

He chanced a look up. 

Leorio’s eyes widened with an astonished look that made Gon wish he weren’t there. The disappointment was tangible, and he felt the worst person on the planet, undeserving of the hug that he was still getting, wrapped up in the hospital bed blankets by the person who was now looking at him with the worst look of betrayal ever. ‘It wasn’t like it was much. And it wasn’t a bad kind, either. Just Annie.’ He thought, hoping that it would provide enough of an excuse for himself.

“Well…I never took you for that kind of person, Gon… not that I think any less of you, I…it’s kind of hard to…it’s just that I never really imagined that you would… and I never took _myself_ as the kind of person to allow this to happen… _how could I allow this to happen?_ ” He trailed away back into the choked up worry that he’d come in with, his hands wringing each other.

Gon tried, he did, using his hands against Leorio’s shirt to weakly push himself away. The drugs were still pretty strong, and he saw the walls turn in unnatural ways. “Look, ’s not your fault! ’t wasn’t like you did anything, an’ ‘m not dyin’, either. Just Annie!

Leorio wilted before him, wondering aloud where he went wrong, despite not doing any wrong in the first place.

Gon couldn’t deny that Leorio was under a lot of pressure recently, and it killed him to think that he’d been so insensitive to pick such a time to go out and get lost.

From what Gon understood, Leorio had been closely watched by the state for the past year and a half, and was in a bit of a spot with the justice system in a whirl of confusions and accusations that evaded his understanding by far. All he knew was that Leorio had been trying his damnedest to play “dad” to Killua as was court ordered, and there goes Gon, getting high and nearly getting killed.

“I don’ really know why I did it, but I _do_ know i’m really, really sorry and I won’t do it again, so you guys don’ need to worry! It was just a heat-of-the-moment type thing. Traveling to such a new place, and it just seemed to have the right… feel to it. The music, the scenery, and the people. And it was alright, Jamba helped me. An’ ‘at’s not your fault.”

Leorio and Killua looked at him funny.

“… _About_ that…who’s this _“Jamba”_ guy you were talking about? Some kind of hallucination or something? Did you imagine that you were carried away by some African god or something?” Killua asked him, pressing his palms against the duvet.

Leorio looked significantly more worried if it was at all possible, and reached a hand over to press the back of his fingers against Gon’s forehead. “I don’t think those medicines are doing you any good. I’m going to talk to a nurse-“

“Stop getting your panties in a knot! You’re not his dad, so stop acting like it! It’s just something to help with how he’s a twig right now. You _of all people_ should know that.” Killua spat up to him from where he was now laying on the blankets, and Leorio stared back down at him, silent. He actually looked like he was about to say something before deciding otherwise, biting his tongue.

While Leorio did care about Killua, the two of them clearly weren’t working on the same grounds. Killua did what he could to get on Leorio’s nerves, and Leorio had a short fuse when he wasn’t moping. He tried his best to try and fix this, but sometimes, he said, you have to remember that people are still people.

And one-sided love was a hard thing to live with, Gon considered since he knew the feeling very well, so he oftentimes went out of his way to translate Killua-speak. But he knew that he didn’t need to translate in order to ensure that the White Horse trial would still continue.

“Jamba’s my friend.” Gon said, laying his hands out in front of him, folded in his lap. The medicines were starting to wear off, and he could begin to feel the inside of his cheeks again. “I met him when I was out there, in the jungle. He’s pretty cool. He talks funny, and - Leorio, do you know anything about in-humans?”

Leorio blinked. “In-humans?” He paused, trying to drag up any memory he had of them. “I…don’t really. I was told that there are several kinds of in-humans in Africa, but I didn’t really think…” He sat back. By now, he had rested back on the side of the bed, listening carefully to what Gon said. “Keep telling me, please. I’d like to know more about…your friend.”

He didn’t sound scared. Just concerned, but it a way that parents were concerned. All good-cop-like, so Gon continued, telling the story like he remembered it.

He had spent his past week inside a hole in the ground, tight and cozy, packed with dirt and lined with a soft mixture of dried grasses, animal fur, and sand. His room-mate and host was a wild animal, and that was where his absolute knowledge of him stopped.

The thing had apparently brought him back to it’s den after it discovered a child wandering alone in the Botswana safari, and that was where they stayed until Gon was found. 

Gon was unsure at first about his new friend, seeing him devour a zebra thigh, wash himself with a long, pinkish tongue. He walked with a gait, and seemed very relaxed wherever he went, and especially when Gon saw him up close. He would come and lay down next to him, dozing in the sun whenever he wasn’t traversing the grasslands, never wandering far from the den. From then on, Gon knew he found himself a new animal friend.

One that he had promptly named after a greeting that he researched last-minute before their trip. “Jamba,” a friendly hello. Gon thought that it fit the strange but not unwelcome personality of his pet. “Nqoba” a second name, meaning “conqueror.” This however, was only something he had looked up in a dictionary.

“Hello, i’m going to conquer you.”

He barely remembered his rescue, other than being pulled from the long savanna grasses and into an emergency vehicle. 

It felt bizarre to be sitting in-between clean, soft sheets, and the warm hug of the blanket against his body. The dirt was gone, and gone too were the deep huffs of Jamba’s breath as he slept. The animal always slept close, which made nights and mornings less cold.

“Where is he, anyway?” Gon asked quietly, glancing about the hospital room from the drip by his bed-stand, to the open light fixture in the middle of the ceiling, to the curtain rack that obscured his view of the other side of the room and possibly a window. But there was no Jamba, who would have looked out of place anyway in such a human environment.

They probably let him back into the wild, or he got scared by the crowd. Which was a real bummer, because Gon was planning on bringing his friend home with him. He would have made a nice addition to the triad once he learned to speak.

Leorio had this look in his eyes, but he had relaxed when Gon had started telling his story. He seemed to be a little in thought. “I’m not sure where he is, Gon. But the police mentioned something was there at the scene when you were picked up.” Leorio said, his voice now very tired. He looked like all the wanted to do was lie down in that bed and go to sleep.

He looked to Gon, before a tired smile came across his face. It was the kind of relief that people felt that was usually combined with crying, but Gon wouldn’t doubt that he’d done enough of that already. “But what matters now is that you’re alive, and I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am just for that. And I have no idea what i’m going to have to do with you now.” He paused, pretending to think for a moment. “Maybe I should just get you one of those child leashes.”

Gon laughed. It hurt his throat, but it was so funny, that he couldn’t stop. Not until he was leaning over into Leorio’s side, feeling the older man’s shirt getting wet.

The two of them left later, Leorio telling Gon that he needed to sleep, and when he woke up, he would get something back in his system. “I’m planning on spending the next week here, i’m not going to take this whole trip wondering if one of you is dying. However, I want you to know that you aren’t leaving the house without an adult with you.” 

Gon couldn’t do much more than agree, waving as Leorio ushered Killua out the door.

* * *

 

Leorio had gone back to visit several more times before they could bring him back to the house. The entire time, he couldn’t help but worry, and there was really no way that he could tell anyone aside from the Azikiwes about the kind of afraid-angry that he’d felt for the past week.

He really didn’t want to feel angry at all - it appeared to have been an accident. 

For that reason, he felt all the more irresponsible.

“Don’t mope too much about it. Things happen. He’s alive and that’s what matters. Now, when you get him back home, tend to the other kid, and i’ll talk with Mr. Freeccs. Probably embarrassed to the point of melting, little guy.” He clapped his hands together, like he was a children’s baseball coach getting ready for a game. “I’ll get him settled in, and we can all talk afterward.”

They had standing on the porch of his house the morning that Gon was supposed to come home, Zeke with a thin cigarette in his mouth and Leorio twisting his keys in his hand.

The sun was high in the sky, and the air was only just beginning to heat up. Far in the sandy distance, Leorio could see the heat rolling up from the ground in waves, blurring the horizon line.

Killua was inside and playing chess with Mr. Azikiwe, under Leorio’s request of wanting some time to talk alone with Gon while they came home, and that he really didn't need anyone getting in the way.

 Killua had just shrugged, but Leorio couldn’t help but feel that he’d said or done something he shouldn’t have.

* * *

 


	3. With Spearhead Brandished Menacingly...

**Chapter Three**  

* * *

 

**The** parking lot wasn’t full, belonging to a very small hospital in the first place. This was compared to the massive buildings that Leorio had seen, been to, and interned at, of course. By itself, it was a good size, and when he looked back, he felt surprised to think that it had managed to nurse a child from half-dead to barely running ahead of him. Figuring himself biased, he signed the release forms at the front desk and swung a duffel bag over his shoulder.

He had warned Gon, _warned_ him, not to go too far ahead, and Gon playfully reminded him that if he survived the Hunter Exam, he could survive a hospital parking lot. 

‘And the reason why he was in a hospital parking lot _was…?’_ Leorio thought, but listened when Gon delved into stories of Jamba when they’d pulled out into the main road. It was morning, so everyone was headed to work, and the traffic lights took a long time to change. 

Leorio sipped at his coffee. Gon had something to drink, but he may have left it at the hospital cafeteria.

“He was big, and tall, and he wore clothes but they were blue and dirty.” Gon said with excitement, and Leorio tried his best to picture Gon’s monster in his head. Humor him.

So far, the child had described his savior as being a big animal that looked like a human with long, shaggy hair, colored like butter only darker.

“That would be…wet sand.” Leorio guessed, and watched as Gon grinned from the passenger seat.

“Yeah, like that. And he had long claws, like this.” He held a couple of pencils in-between his fingers, and lightly slashed at the air in front of him. “His teeth were yellow, and his eyes were blue, but in the light, they looked _red_.”

This sparked something in Leorio, and he wondered where he could have heard of something like that before. He knew that there were in-humans living in Africa, and from the sounds of it, it may have been a Swaziland Cackler, short in-humans that looked enough of what Gon described to him aside from the tall part. If that was so, he would have to ask Zeke why a Swaziland Cackler would travel all the way up to Botswana.

Which triggered another thought… but that was quickly put aside. There was a different type of Cackler, one that was native to Botswana, that just about fit Gon’s description as well. However, because of poachers, they were assumed to be recently extinct. As a consequence, the other types of Cacklers, all four of them, were being watched closely by zoos and game reserves.

“He was very nice.” Gon eventually said, his voice calming down from excited as they neared the house. He fidgeted, and Leorio felt just a little bad for the boy, who had no idea what the reception would be like when he got inside. “I want to see him again.”

“Well, maybe you can. Your Uncle Ezekiel found you, and that’s a feat in itself. I’m sure that he can find your friend. Come on, do you want help out?”

“Sure.” Gon sounded heavily scolded, and Leorio grabbed the bag from the backseat before using his arm to steady Gon as he was half-lifted from the truck.

They hadn’t even made it more than a step inside before Zeke had snatched Gon up off the floor, swinging him a little before lowering him. Gon looked a strange mix of excited and afraid, and Leorio felt the same way despite knowing that Ezekiel had good intentions.

“Where have you been, little guy?“ Ezekiel asked, being a tall man and thus able to balance Gon on his hip. The child looked down at him, an awkward smile on his face. He shrugged, and Ezekiel smiled up at him. “You must be tired, just getting back. Come on, let’s get you to bed so you can rest a bit. I dunno if you can keep anything down so soon, but we’re just gonna have to see. ‘kay?” He asked, and Leorio felt something twist in his chest as he watched Gon smile and Ezekiel take him out of the room.

Zeke had quite an affinity with kids, didn’t he?

He laughed a little, shouldering the bag and slowly following them.

‘He’d make a great dad.’ He thought. ‘Oh, just a _great_ one…’

Gon was sitting at the end of the bed, smiling sheepishly by the time that Leorio was standing at the door. He watched as Ezekiel tousled his hair and got a spare set of clothes, helping the boy up and to the bathroom. “You can go get changed and into bed, and if you think that you can take it, i’ll get you something to eat.”

“A’right.” Gon said quietly, and gently closed the bathroom door.

There was a moment before Zeke glanced to the doorway, smiling. “Kids, right?” He asked, and Leorio felt disconnected. “Aw, don’t look at me that way! Things happen, what did I tell you? The best thing we can do for him is to be there, and make him feel less scared than he already is. Really, if you’d’ve felt him shakin’ just a moment ago, you wouldn’t be angry either.” He had quieted, walking over to talk to Leorio without being overheard.

He sighed. “I know. But.” Leorio glanced into the room. “I can’t help but - did you know that he talked the _entire_ ride home? About that animal that I was talking to you about, that Cackler. At least, I have a good feeling that it’s a Cackler.”

Zeke cocked a brow. “Cacklers? We haven’t had a Cackler around here in two years, going on three.”

“I know that, I mean one from Swaziland. You know, the shorter ones. I think that they look about the same, I dunno. He said that he was tall.”

Neither of them had noticed that the door opened, or, that was what Leorio told himself, jolting when Gon showed up next to them and started talking. “Yeah! His name’s Jamba, and I met him while I was gone! He brought me home and we lived together! He was really tall and he had hair like wet sand, and it was rea~lly long! And his ears were like a dog’s, but they were also _really long_ and pointy, and he had long claws, and red eyes! I think! They were also blue, but sometimes they were red!”

Ezekiel, in an instant, had bent down next to him, gently taking the boy’s shoulders.

“What?” Gon asked, just a little worried. “Did I say something?”

“No!” Zeke said, backpedaling. “No, no you didn’t! It was just something I was thinking about - your friend, Jamba? Are you serious when you said what he looked like?”

Gon stared, unsure. “Yeah…”

Ezekiel looked about to say something, but was shoved aside on a sudden, and in the next instant Gon was barreled over, knocked off his feet by Killua, who had ran into the room without a word said. Ezekiel didn’t seem to mind, however, and Leorio watched as he smiled down at them, the kids chattering amongst one another.

“You’re still going on about that?” Killua asked, showed away by Gon.

“Yeah, why not? What are you gonna to, tell on me?” Gon retorted, grinning widely.

“I’m gonna dig a hole and bury you in there. That way the worms will eat you."

“Worms won’t eat me because they’re my friends, they’ll eat you because I told them to.”

“I can just tell them that you use them for fishing, and then they’ll rise up and revolt!” 

Leorio decided, at that moment, that maybe it was worth forgiving the boy that once. After all, there wasn’t much of a chance of it happening again, not under his watch. Of course, as the boy got older, he would need to make sure that he could handle himself on his own…

He sounded like the boy’s father. The father that was MIA at the moment, so it was up to him to fill in. Not that Leorio didn’t like acting as a parent, it was just that he wasn’t a very good one.

Ezekiel was. Maybe Gon would be happier where he could be in his element, sitting among the animals and training by his own to be a good Hunter. After all, how was he going to do that living in the apartment home of a amateur doctor?

“What happened? I thought you said that you were going to be right back?” Asked someone, and Leorio turned around as everyone else did, looking to see who talked.

Mr. Azikiwe wasn’t normally a quiet person, but he wasn't loud either. Now, he stood patiently in the hallway, and a little embarrassed, Leorio moved aside to let him into the room. “I heard you two talking, and I thought that it must be pretty important for you to ditch a game in it’s peak.”

“Gon’s tellin’ tales again.” Killua said, and found his hair being sharply pulled, good humor in his laugh.

“You _tattletale_ , I knew you were gonna do that!” Gon defended. “And i’m not lying! I really did stay with Jamba!” He turned to Ezekiel. “You saw him! You said that you did, when the police came when you found me! You said that there was something there! That was Jamba! He was with me!” 

Mr. Azikiwe laughed. “Oh? And what did your friend look like? I know that oversized pen like it’s the back of my hand, i’m sure that maybe we could drop in and say ‘hello.’” He smiled, and Leorio was sure that even Mr. Azikiwe would be better as a parent than he was. Although, wouldn’t that be a grandfather since Zeke was Gon’s uncle? 

“Can you?!” Gon jumped up from where he was knocked to the floor. Killua stayed sitting down, watching them. He smiled, and Leorio wondered how long it was going to last.

“Sure we can. What does he look like?”

And Gon described his ‘friend,’ sometimes adding in new things that Leorio hadn’t heard from him yet. Like how Jamba had apparently hunted his food, but most of the times picked it from dead carcasses. That Jamba talked, too, and he talked strangely, but Gon understood, saying that he’d been able to understand the words of most animals that he met.

Leorio remembered the boat they’d taken on their way to the Exam, about the seagulls. He’d been a little further away, but most of the conversation was clarified by the time that they’d gotten to shore.

Word by word, it seemed that Mr. Azikiwe was more and more impressed, and by the time that Gon had gotten to the part where Jamba’s eyes glowed red, his eyebrows practically shot into his hair. “You’re serious?” He asked, and again, Gon tilted his head.

“You keep saying that. Everyone keeps saying that. It’s like you don’t get it. I’m not lying, I really met him!”

“And I have not a doubt in the world that you did! But what you’re saying is very, very important! ‘Zekiel! You hear about this?” He said hastily, and Ezekiel nodded.

“Yeah, told me only a moment ago. Might be a Swaziland comin’ up from the South. Must be the messin’ with their nests that caused him to move.”

Gon listened carefully to him. “Really? Maybe we should try to help him.”

Mr. Azikiwe stood up to his full height. It wasn’t that impressive, he wasn’t very tall in the first place. “Swazilands don’t have red eyes, dummy. But there’s no argument that we’re going to see that Cackler! You see, child - it’s very important that we get out there quickly. Your friend’s head has a hefty price on it, and for good reasons. Well, not _good,_ but - we have to go and find him! I have my gun in the other room! _Zeke!_ You can go and get us all a pass, tell them that we have to check on something important! Just say it’s a hyena or something. And absolutely no words said about the _Botswana Cackler!”_

* * *

 

“Botswana Cackler?” Killua asked, more to himself than anyone else, gripping tightly the backseat of the ATV. Going down the trail leading out into the Mabuasehube Game Reserve, it bumped and rocked heavily, driving over potholes, dull rocks jutting from the ground, and small hills covered in grass.

Zeke, under the ‘suggestion’ of his father, had gone to the Reserve station and rented an ATV with a large cage in the back, telling his boss and the officials that they were going to check on a certain hyena and that they’d be back by morning.

By the time that they’d left, it was late afternoon, and Mr. Azikiwe assured them that this was good - the Botswana Cackler came out at night most often. “They’re night hunters.” He had first said when leaving the Reserve base. “I would have your friend here to help us, but seeing _how_ he found Jamba in the first place, I don’t think he should come back here.”  

Leorio had peeked up above the cage in the back. They had already started calling it by the name that Gon had given it. “I don’t think _that’s_ going to be much of a problem from here on.” He’d said, and Mr. Azikiwe shrugged.

There was no more talk about Gon - instead, his creature was their center of attention.

“And to you, kid, they grow about six feet standing, big fella in their full height! He’s been extinct for the past couple’a years, but your friend’s description sounds too close to be mistakable! I have not a doubt in my mind that the Botswana Cackler is out there, and just waiting for either us to pick him up and save his little species…or get the last of their wee heads blown off!” 

For luring, they’d taken a good sized cooler of raw meat from the animal-pantry, possibly from a cow.

Leorio wondered if a wild animal was going to snack on beef, but it wasn’t as if he had any other knowledge of wild animals’ diet. Especially not the eating habits of an animal that was supposed to be dead.

They drove over a big stone, and Mr. Azikiwe swerved quickly to avoid tipping the vehicle over. Leorio almost found himself flying off the cage, and tightened his white-knuckled grip to the bars, the metal digging into his hands. He hadn’t moved from his spot since they left, and Killua sometimes looked back out at him, keeping a firm hold on the seat so he wouldn’t fall out.

“Oh! And by the way - it’s easy to tell if Mr. Cackler’s angry.” Mr. Azikiwe started, glancing to and fro about the plains. The sun was gently setting over the edge of the African savannah, and the deep red, gold and orange hues of the sunset reflected off of Leorio’s glasses. It dyed Killua’s white shirt a pretty red, and the rest of the truck was bathed in the warmth of late afternoon Botswana. The cicadas and several birds began calling, and Leorio thought he could hear the sound of an animal braying somewhere not too far off.

“How’s that?!” He shouted to be heard. The movement of the ATV and it’s motor provided a steady droning noise, nearly drowning out his words.

“Well, for one, he makes a noise and does a dance for us!” He leaned his head back to look, Zeke explaining the rest.

“We used to call it their little ‘chuck-chuck dance.’ Usually means that they’re concerned and ready to strike. And with the jaw strength of a Cackler, it won’t be a pretty end if we ignore him!”

Leorio, hardly able to talk, coughed past his words. He tucked his chin into his shoulder to be able to breathe. “Alright!” He said, Killua probably the only one who heard him. “So if it does a jig, stand still. Alright, what does it mean if it starts moonwalking? It’s letting us pass?”

“Why don’t you find out?!” Killua shouted to him, a hand up to his mouth to be heard.

“Well, i’m gonna have to take you with me, Lord knows what you’d do alone!”

Killua made a face. “I got the Azikiwes. And the Cackler’s got a new snack. See? He doesn’t need boring old beef - he’s got you with an apple in your mouth!”

Ezekiel laughed into his hand, before barking back, “It’s not nice to feed the animals rotten food!”

Gon had given them a loose map before they left the house - it was hard for him to remember where he had been, but he remembered a certain patch of trees that weren’t far away from the area he wandered in on. When Ezekiel found him, he was by the edge of the Mabuasehube Game Reserve, so he was able to find several such patches easily enough.

“Botswana Cacklers don’t wader far from their dens, so this place must be near where the home is.” Mr. Azikiwe said as they neared the copse that Gon had drawn for them. “If this is it, we split up in the teams we discussed and head out.”

They had sorted out teams before leaving for the game reserve - Leorio would go with Mr. Azikiwe, and Killua would go with his Uncle Ezekiel. Leorio hadn’t really liked the placement at first, however, Ezekiel said that maybe it was better that they would be able to work without Leorio worrying over his son too much.

Leorio looked up, inspecting the sky, darkening and dotted with stars. ‘Humph.’ He thought. The sky in Akron was red at night, and it was hard to see so many stars.

It was really nothing bad that he worried over his son, so what was the issue?  

Not that he expected what was nearly a man-hunt to be a midnight picnic, but the gun he held felt heavy, having never shot one off before. Honestly, it would have made him more comfortable knowing that the kid was nearby - alone, he just felt very clumsy, the firearm heavy and imbalanced the way that he held it. Maybe if his kid were there, he could have held it up higher, maybe been able to shoot it correctly. But with Mr. Azikiwe correcting his stance and asking, “God, man, have you ever even held a stick before?” He wasn’t so sure.  

Ezekiel stepped up, holding his rifle expertly after they’d parked the ATV. Killua stood behind him, looking up when he spoke. “Turn on your flashlights and radios, and if there’s any trouble, mention the word “Mayday” and the responding team will be there in a short moment. There’s a professional each, so there shouldn't be too much trouble. Find the Cackler, and if you can, lure him back to the cage. Call the other team back with the word “Greenlight.””

They parted as soon as communications were checked, and it only took about ten minutes for the groups to lose sight of each other’s lights.

As well as the lights, everyone was given a snack for Jamba - a pouch of carrion that would lure him to the vehicle. And since they had their hands full with not only a gun but a flashlight as well, the bag had to be connected to their belts, opposite the radio for the wardens.

Leorio asked about taping his flashlight to the end of his gun so he could carry the meat bag in his hand, but Mr. Azikiwe wasn’t having it - he said that he wouldn’t be able to turn the light off when he needed to, and for someone who nearly passed the Hunting Exam, he sure was whining a lot about a small wet patch wasn’t he?

Leorio grumbled, but turned back to watch Ezekiel and Killua’s flashlight beams slowly fading out, and when he lost even that to catch his attention, Leorio saw every movement in the grass and heard every sound in the night air - from the minor scuffing noises their boots made in the dirt, to the bugs chittering to the faint sound of something bleating far-off.

“Shouldn’t be _that_ hard to find ‘im. Would do some kind of a call, but they don’t call them in-humans for nothing. He’d find out it’s a fake, specially since he prolly not heard many other Cacklers for a while, if he’s willing to cozy up to a human boy.” Mr. Azikiwe said in a harsh whisper, loud enough for Leorio to hear, but he only listened, once in a while saying something short and monosyllabic that showed that he wasn’t deaf or ignorant.

‘I wonder how Ezekiel and Killua are doing.’ He wondered faintly as he scanned the area, the flatland dark as pitch in far-off areas and dimly glowing a faint grey by the light of the half-moon and the billions of stars. He flashed his light across the flat plains, cutting sharply a beam through the murky night air. Leorio felt his senses were dulled to their most useless - he couldn’t see much, save for the bugs flying in the light shaft, and once in a while the reflective lights of a jackal.

Glowing green dots…

He stopped, Mr. Azikiwe continuing on a few more paces.

Something shuffled, and Leorio stared silently down at the jackal’s astonishingly deep, green eyes reflecting his flashlight’s beacon. For a moment, he could have sworn he’d seen a pair of strange stars, faintly aware of the grumbling sound emitting from the creature’s deep throat.

 And the sound of claws against dirt.

* * *

There was a sudden burst of static, a belching of buzzing and popping that jumped Killua somewhat, and Uncle Ezekiel leaned down to pull up the radio from his belt. Killua watched from a few feet away, before turning his attention back into the empty plains. He tried to put up the impression of being bored, but he had his doubts that it worked. Uncle Zeke seemed to see right through him as surely as his family did, and it should have disturbed him, but it was Ezekiel. He didn’t have anything to worry about, and he'd only known the man for a week.

This was the guy that they’d been excited to see, the one who kept writing them and sending them neat stuff when they were back in Akron.

That kind of trust was useful in their situation, wandering in the middle of the night in the middle of the wild. He was used to being away from home, but he could definitely feel the strong call of bed back at the house.

So far, all they’d seen were small dogs and once, an actual hyena - Killua had a strong feeling that there would be no in-humans, night creatures or not. He had little experience with in-humans, and once in a while he’d see one or two back at his old home. They were pets more than anything, stupid as dogs and collard like them too. They were short, ugly things, and drooled because they pulled on the leash too much.

He had heard that the value on the Botswana Cackler, one of five types of Cacklers, being five types of many more different in-humans - was based on their bodies. It’s bones, the toughest any animal could have been given by nature, were used as clubs or other blunt weapons; it’s hair was long and silky if doctored right and was used to make doll hair, their claws and fangs were for jewelry and their eyes as trophies and keepsakes of Africa.

Others said the eyes were used in tiny glass jars to be kept as a status symbol, and he could have sworn he’d seen some in his mother and father’s bedroom. This was about the time that his youngest brother was born, a few years ago. He hadn’t been in that place since then.

He was sure that they used it as a redroom instead of a bedroom, his mother may have bragged about it once. He remembered her pulling a hand up to her mouth and cackling to herself, some joke that was just so hilarious but went over his head, and Killua was sure with good reason.

Beside the point - Cacklers had been hunted for years, but only two years ago did they finally drop from the face of the earth.

A live Cackler would mean more than any of those things combined.

That meant that people wouldn’t think past stepping onto a game reserve to hunt it.

“This is Zeke to Leo, come in Leo. I got your message, what’s the big idea calling if you’re not going to say anything? Over.” He asked, and Leorio was quiet for a moment, and Killua had to strain to hear the response through the radio. In the background, he could hear someone else mumbling, raising his suspicions in an instant.

“It’s here…over…” Leorio whispered, and at once, Ezekiel began panning the area, looking around quickly. There came a mumbling sound from the radio after it blipped back on again, and Leorio spoke once more - “ _Mayday! Over!”_ He whispered this time, as if trying not to be heard by something.

“Where do you think you are? Is it still - _can one of you wave the light around?_ \- wait, never mind, just try to bring it back and lure it to the truck, I have a few tranquilizers here. If we meet up, I can help you put him away. Over - and out.”

Ezekiel reconnected the small radio to his belt and turned several times, again scanning the area to see any sign of a light. Finally, he turned to Killua, saying hurriedly, “Look, i’m not sure if he’s getting spooked over nothing, but I need you to be careful, and don’t get too excited. Don’t be afraid, they can’t smell fear but they know when you’re scared. That can make him angry - and I don’t want you to do anything, if we see it, hide - i’ll take care of things. Just you go back to the truck, it’s over there, and wait for us, can you do that?”

He didn’t leave time for Killua to even say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ standing up and heading away into the brush without another word.

* * *

He was aware of Mr. Azikiwe standing nearby - he had his gun pointed, but Leorio was sure he wouldn’t shoot. He somehow knew, wholly and completely, that no bullet could stop the monster that crouched in front of him.

His breath was caught fast in his throat as he stared straight into the face of the beast, long dark fur - hair? - surrounding it’s muddy, scarred face. It’s mouth was a wide grimace, deep red lips peeled back to show off several sharp teeth. With this mouth, it took heavy breaths in, short huffs that stunk of flesh and blood, even from where he was. A long tongue switched over the fangs and lips, and it took a wet breath in, before releasing it in a sharp snort. Saliva was sprayed over the ground as the animal began to make a noise.

A long and deep, **“whoo-oop!”** sound, and it _jolted_ upwards, lifting itself up off of it’s front feet. It became a **“woo** - _oaw!”_ as Leorio lurched back, a warm wetness spreading quickly between his legs and down, but he paid no mind to it. The hand gripping the gun was shaking and he felt as if he were staring into his own death, his eyes transfixed on the captivating green ones of the Botswana Cackler. The trigger finger was not even on the trigger, instead, clutching onto the butt of the gun as if he were using a club instead.

“M..m-mister…Mister!” Was all he managed, and a short hiss came from the direction of the other man.

“Hush it, boy! Don’t scare him! Zeke’s coming, just you wait there, and _don’t be afraid!”_

He could hear Mr. Azikiwe, but somehow didn't quite trust him. Sure, not be afraid, why not just lay down on the ground and point out where all the soft places are, the places that are easy to tear into and eat?

 

Oh! But the meat!

 

Did it smell a snack?

 

Or was it just smelling him?

 

Hoping to God that they weren’t synonymous, he quickly pulled his gun back and yanked at the bag at his waist, hurriedly untying it as the animal reared up again to strike. Mr. Azikiwe tried to shout but held back, obviously furious.

Leorio wasn’t stupid - he knew that his movements must have been jarring. He braced himself, throwing the bag down to the Cackler.

It paused, and dropped to all four feet once more, reaching down it’s nose to sniff the bag.

“Get over here!” Mr. Azikiwe snapped, probably the only moment that he would get to talk, and Leorio wasted no time in running to hide behind the man. “You people, I swear you’re like a magnet for death! I see where your boy gets it from!”

The Cackler had pulled it’s head up from the pouch, having nosed it around for a bit, before deciding that the offering wasn’t good enough, that it had a hankering for humans recently, and the quick steps it took towards them said just this…

…right before it was intercepted by a sudden blast of fury that came crashing out of the underbrush with a battle cry, throwing a powerful punch to the creature and effectively stunning it.

Leorio jumped back, terrified by Killua’s sudden entrance. The boy had only grappled the animal a moment before he was jumping away from the large and powerful creature. A sudden flash in his eyes that didn’t even last a second warned Leorio that even he was impressed by the sheer size of the beast - and the size of the fight that it would put up now that they had made enemies of themselves.

Mr. Azikiwe, seeing the child so close the Cackler and no doubt a target of it’s anger, ran to grab Killua and pull him back. As he did so, he pulled up the radio and shouted something to his son, waving the flashlight in the air.

Leorio scrambled to stay away from the animal itself, who was nursing a new wound in it’s shoulder. It licked at the spot with a long tongue, and Leorio watched it, afraid and fascinated. ‘It looks so much like a man, and at the same time it’s anything but.’

He was torn from his thoughts when the creature turned it’s burning eyes up at him, scaring the both of them. It jumped up, falling into a series of quick, almost comical hops back and forth, tittering and _chuck_ -ing. This went on for about a minute.

It took a full minute of confused and frightened amusement before Leorio finally recognized it, remembering that Mr. Azikiwe said earlier that the animal would make a noise like that when it felt it was cornered. Unfortunately, it was a prelude to another strike, which made him back up at once.

He was a safe distance in a matter of seconds - to his immediate horror, however, Killua stayed still where Mr. Azikiwe could drag him, staring at the beast’s movements as if mesmerized. Mr. Azikiwe was only a head above his height, and looked to Leorio for help - but Leorio felt his legs were unable to move any further, fighting a battle that they’d already lost.

The boy’s lip quivered and his legs shook. Saliva gathered quickly at the corner of his mouth, and he looked as if he began to struggle to breathe.

Episode.

And Gon wasn’t there with the bell.

Leorio didn’t have anything to help either, not that muscle relaxants would do any good in the state they were in.

It was the pain of allowing this to happen and not being able to help that called Leorio back to life, the feeling in his arms gaining in placement of Killua’s quickly slipping ability to use his own. He shook all over and coughed, his voice hoarse.

Leorio shook himself from his stupor and in a sudden burst of courage flared by seeing his son in danger, ran at the boy. All in the span of a minute, he dug his boot into the ground and kicked a spray of dirt in the face of the Cackler, grabbing his son and dropping the rifle in exchange.

He turned to run, the child heavy in his arms.

And the next thing they knew, a screech ripped from the Cackler’s throat as it lunged.

The animal reached out a big, bony hand, like a clamp, and locked onto Killua’s arm. It began to jerk its whole body in mad, powerful thrusts, painful to the sight and the screams were ever worse. In this sudden movement, the boy was pulled loose, and Leorio stood paralyzed as the Cackler threw his son’s body this way and that, letting his weight bear impact on the wounds that the child received. Killua, pulled from Leorio’s arms, stood up and tried to dig his heels into the dirt, but this didn’t last for more than a few seconds before he was knocked off balance again and again.

Leorio was almost unable to look at Killua, his arm grabbed hardly by a frighteningly human claw, like a hand but bigger and far scarier. The boy was grabbed around by the beast’s powerful forearm, blood gushing from the wound like water from a tap.

 

‘Leorio! _Leorio! Help me! I can’t move! Help me, Leorio, please!”_

 

A sudden _bang_ rang through the air, and the monster screamed in pain, releasing Killua’s arm and reeling back. It quickly turned to look at Leorio, it’s eyes rabid and shining green, as if it expected to threaten him - but it instead froze in place - the terror in it’s eyes was obvious and it grew by the second as Leorio’s had, the tables turning when it saw it’s own death in the barrel of a Remington rifle.

With nothing more to say, it dashed back into the grass, limping as it’s hind leg was burst open, a metal bullet lodged deep inside of it.

Ezekiel had come out of the brush - instantly, he was down by their sides, crouching next to Leorio and grabbing the bleeding boy up out of his arms. Leorio followed close behind, Mr. Azikiwe leading the path back to the truck. It was clear they weren’t going to stay any longer, and honestly, looking back at the bloody trail left in the grass, Leorio couldn’t care less about the existence of the Botswana Cackler.

“Hold on Killua, come on, stay here for just a little longer. Come on Killua, let’s get back to the truck, it’s right over there…Killua, kiddo, you’re going to have to stay awake for Leorio, alright? Can you hear me?” He patted his arm and trotted beside Ezekiel, thanking everything under the sun that Killua was still responsive and didn’t drop off too far.

“…I can hear you, Leorio. I can hear you..." He mumbled, his arm feeling cold and puffy.

'I don’t even know what i’m going to say to Gon…” He thought as he clung to his Uncle Zeke as best he could while the man carried him back to the ATV.

They were back at the hospital in about fifteen minutes.

* * *

 


End file.
